


Paying Attention Is Important.

by StrawberryBubbles



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU modern, M/M, R Ship Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:31:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryBubbles/pseuds/StrawberryBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac likes sex, Grantaire likes sex, and it is simple as that. Except it isn’t. Not any more anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paying Attention Is Important.

**Author's Note:**

> Some R and Courf for R ship Week. In the middle of exams so I haven't really edited it properly, plus it is unbeta'd so I'm sorry for in advance for any spelling/ grammar errors.

Courfeyrac had been glad that first night when after a relatively shit day he had gone over to Grantaires place and watched crappy movies with him before they, somehow, ended up in bed together. He was gladder still when it became a common occurrence, when Grantaire, after a bad day would go to him to have a few drinks and amazing sex instead of drinking himself to unconsciousness. When Courf fed up with his shitty law classes and his stupid professors could just fall into bed with Grantaire and enjoy himself. It was a way to release tension, to have fun, to just forget about the rest of the shitty world.

At first one of the best parts about it had been the casualness of it all. They didn’t have to do ‘dates’, they didn’t even have to see each other all that often, they might sleep together every night for a week and then not again for a couple of weeks. There was no commitment so neither had to feel guilty if they ended up in bed with someone else. Courf didn’t have to worry about the way Grantaires eyes still seemed to follow Enjolras across the room and Grantaire didn’t get upset when Courf flirted with anybody and everybody in front of him.

But it wasn’t just great sex free of responsibilities, it was a great friendship too. Sometimes they wouldn’t have sex, they’d just talk and it was great, they told each other things they wouldn’t feel comfortable telling other people. They had the same sense of humour and similar taste in movies, and where their tastes differed they were always willing to compromise. They would go out get drunk and wake up with new stupid and hilarious stories to tell about their drunken adventures, but it was still simply a friendship, a great friendship, but a friendship non the less. Until The Wedding.

Courf didn’t like to think about The Wedding, it had fucked everything up. It was his cousins wedding, it should have been fun, he was happy for his cousin. He had asked Grantaire to come along because he knew R would make the whole thing that much better, and so what if it made his family think they were dating? Grantaire didn’t seem to care and he didn’t either, he just wanted a good time. Which he had, it was good, it was fun. They got there a couple days early for all the rehearsals and setting up, being that Courf had been asked to be one of the groomsmen. They had a great weekend together, Courf loved watching Grantaire charm the pants off everyone while in private he professed to social ineptitude, loved even more watching him writhe beneath him on their hotel bed as Courf took him apart. It wasn’t until after the ceremony that everything went to shit.

Courf had been having a good night, joking with R, chatting with his family and friends, until the band started playing ‘Sway’. Evidentially this was one of Grantaires favourite songs.

“Come on Courf,” he had said holding out his hand, “we have to dance to this, it is law.” He said the final bit solemnly which had made Courf laugh, agreeing and letting himself be led out onto the dance floor.

Courf knew Grantaire was a dancer, knew the grace that Grantaire moved with every day, knew with very intimate first-hand experience just how flexible he was, but still he was surprised by how good of a dancer he was. He seemed to simply glide across the floor, guiding Courf, holding him close as though he were something to be cherished, smiling down at Courf, happy and content, it was then that the thought, unbidden, unwanted came into his head: ‘I wonder what he will look like at our wedding.’

Courf nearly choked, only Grantaires hands, one on his shoulder, one in his hand, guiding him on, kept him going.

_I wonder what he will look like at our wedding._

Where had that thought come from? And why would it not leave? It had been weeks. Weeks of catching himself watching Grantaire. Weeks of blushing when he was caught like he was some goddamned school girl. Weeks of over thinking ever little comment Grantaire made, of the sex feeling like so much more than just sex. Weeks and it still would not leave, if anything the idea was getting stronger.

He was dreaming, not just of fucking him into the mattress like he used to, but of waking up together, cooking food together, and he kept dreaming of him, standing at an altar in a suit smiling at Courf like he was the only person worth smiling at. He had stopped flirting with every man and woman that he met, still being friendly in a semi-flirty way, but with none of the intent behind it any more, he hadn’t even thought about taking anyone to bed since The Wedding.

People were starting to notice. Grantaire, of fucking course, was the first. They were sitting on Grantaires couch legs and hands entwined Courf was watching Grantaire, while Grantaire was watching the Lion King, like Courf should be doing, only Grantaire was too cute the way his face showed each and every one of his emotions. Then Grantaire caught Courf staring, Courf blushed, fucking _blushed_ like a teenager, before turning away to pretend like he had actually been paying attention to the movie for the last 30 minutes. Grantaire however, didn’t seem interested in pretending he hadn’t noticed.

“Is something up with you Courf?” He asked. “You’ve been acting odd since your cousins wedding.”

Courf had been so happy deluding himself into thinking Grantaire hadn’t noticed, oh well, one fantasy gone, replaced with one where Grantaire confesses that he only noticed because he realised at The Wedding how in love with Courfeyrac he was and so had been paying extra attention since. Courf desperately tried to ignore the fact that this was literally just a fantasy of switched places, only with the word ‘love’ used. A word he had been trying to avoid despite the fact that he frequently fantasised about married life with Grantaire.

“Shh,” he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen pretending he wasn’t thinking about anything other than the lions on the screen, “no talking during the Lion King.”

Grantaire shrugging, took another sip from his bear eternally the non-pulsed, nothing means anything, guy he always seems to be.

Grantaire was not the only one to notice. Being Grantaires roommate Éponine was probably the only one who knew about them sleeping together, Marius Courfs roommate, seemed to simply not notice Grantaire staying over some nights, either that or he just didn’t grasp the reason why. It wasn’t long after Grantaires question that Éponine actually asked him what was going on between him and Grantaire. He managed to brush it off with a joke about how he ‘surely didn’t need to explain what grown-ups did alone in their bedrooms behind closed doors.’ Éponine had laughed and punched his shoulder lightly, but something in her eyes said she knew it had become more than that.

Combeferre was next. Gently asking Courfeyrac if there was anything he wanted to talk about.

“I don’t know.” Courfeyrac had said.

Combeferre smiled his soft knowing smile.                                                          

“Maybe about Grantaire?”

They were alone in Combeferre and Enjolras’ apartment and it was silent for a long time before Courf finally spoke.

“I just. . . I really . . . he’s brilliant, you know? Absolutely perfect, and I don’t know what to do.”

Combeferre smiled again.

“Yes, I know. I’m sure you’ll work it out. Just give it time you know.”

It was then that Enjolras walked in. Stupid Enjolras, who was fair where Courf was dark, tall where Courf was short, serious where Courf was not. Loved by Grantaire, where Courf was simply liked. He scowled.

“I doubt time will change his feelings. They haven’t changed yet.” He tried not to sound too upset, tried to act nonchalant like it wasn’t a big deal either way, the look in Combeferre’s eyes was enough to tell him he failed.

He took a breath to say something, before looking at Enjolras, clearly thinking on what to say. “I think you’d be surprised.” Is what he ending up saying. Courf did not agree.

He left not long after, not feeling comforted at all, which was new, Combeferre’s calm reassurance usually made everything feel better.

It seemed like everyone noticed after that, except maybe Enjolras who was caught up in ‘The Cause’, and Courf was pretty sure it was Cossette, Marius’ new girlfriend who told him, Marius would never have worked it out on his own. They didn’t bring it up but they did seem to, rather obviously in Courf’s opinion, try to get them together. Leaving them alone together, making plans with the both of them before bailing last minute, trying to goad compliments about the other out of the both of them. Grantaire didn’t seem to mind, he would play along with his easy smile, making jokes about their friends being flakes and readily agreeing with their friends when they asked him if he thought Courf’s hair looked good that day.

It was torture.

It had been almost three months since The Wedding. Courf had just sat through a particularly long meeting where Bahorel spent the whole time making innuendos then staring very pointedly at Grantaire and Courf who were sitting together, but not touching, Courf made sure they were never touching in public. Grantaire had only just left when Jehan approached him, where he was slumped over the table his head on his forearms.

“Courf?” He asked sounding tentative. Courf was never sure with Jehan though, sometimes that was just how his voice sounded, but he was almost one hundred percent certain Jehan had never been unsure of anything in his life.

“Yeah?” He asked looking up.

“I just wanted to make sure you understand, that Grantaire feels the same.”

Courf felt himself colouring, from the roots of his hair right down to the tips of his toes if the embarrassed heat that suddenly flooded his entire body was anything to go by.

“Look, I get that you all know, and I will put up with the stupid jokes when he’s here cause he doesn’t seem to get why they are directed at us, but if you could please refrain from mocking me when he isn’t, especially directly to my face, and please not you.” He realised he sounded harsh, he didn’t like being harsh, but he was sick of it. Sick of the jokes and the futile attempts to get them together, sick of the knowing smiles every time someone caught him staring. Again.

Jehan raised his eyebrows, calmly.

“I’m not mocking you Courf, none of us are, well not maliciously, we just want you two to pull your heads out of your asses and get together already. It’s impressively stupid really that you two have been fucking for months yet neither of you has realised the others feelings.”

Well there goes the idea that no one but Éponine knew they were sleeping together.

“No Jehan,” he replies, still sounding far too harsh for his liking, “I know his feelings, I know who he wants to be with, I also know it’s not me.” Willing his eyes not to look at Enjolras, failing any way.

Jehan followed the quick dart of his eyes and sighed, finally sitting down opposite from Courf.

“You are an unobservant idiot.” He says. “You have been watching Grantaire for what, the past couple of months? Maybe the past three? And you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?” Courf listened to his voice, he sounded hopeless, dejected, when did that happen? He used to be so happy, he used to always be able to at least fake happiness.

“Noticed, that he no longer watches Enjolras during the meetings.” Jehan says leaning across the table and putting his hands on Courfs fore arms. “Noticed when he argues with Enjolras it is no longer just to rile him up and get his attention it is simply to make an actual point. Noticed that he doesn’t drink as much as he used to, doesn’t stay late when Enjolras is, doesn’t do any of those things for Enjolras, but does for you. He watches you Courf every time you aren’t watching him. Whenever he makes a comment or a joke, yours is the first face he seeks, to see what you think, you’re the one he tries to stay coherently sober for, the one he stays late for. Courf, he feels the same.” He was so genuine, smiling slightly at the hope Courf was sure he was doing a horrible job of disguising. Courf still wasn’t sure, but he appreciated the attempt, both loved and hated the little bubble of hope that had settled somewhere between his ribs.

“Thanks, Jehan.”

It was another three days until it happened. He was on his way out, he was going to meet Jehan and Grantaire, if Jehan actually showed up this time, to go to an art show, he paused at the door however when he heard voices behind it. Voices belonging to Grantaire and Jehan.

“I’m not doing this Jehan, its stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. Just do it.”

“He doesn’t feel the same, you know this, why are you doing this to me?”

“Do it or I will record you saying how much you love him and play it to him, you know I’m not above extortion.”

“Well technically that would be blackmail-“

“Just fucking do it.”

There is a knock at the door and then “Shit, what-“ before Courf opens the door to see Grantaire.

Grantaire in a suit. Grantaire in a suit with a bouquet of roses. Grantaire in a suit with a bouquet of roses . . . looking down his hallway? Courf follows his gaze seeing Jehan turn a corner and disappear.

When he looks back at Grantaire, Grantaire is looking at him, a sheepish grin on his face holding out the roses awkwardly.

“Courfeyrac.” He says smiling offering up the flowers. Courfeyrac takes them bemusedly then Grantaire tips his head back looking at the ceiling. “Fuck this is stupid” he whispers, more to himself Courfeyrac suspects than to Courfeyrac, “okay” he says, as if to steel himself. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Courfeyrac can feel the massive grin on his face and barely lets Grantaire finish asking before he answers.

“Yes.” He says. Grantaire looks surprised.

“I mean like a proper date.” He clarifies.

“I know.”

“Like, not our usual watching movies on the couch or going to a bar, but going out to a stupidly fancy restaurant.”

“Yup.” Courf says, smile only getting bigger.

“Where I will insist on paying.” Grantaire continues.

“As long as I pay for the next one.” Courf replies trying not to laugh at the fact that Grantaire is clearly not paying attention to his responses as he ploughs on anyway.

“And I’ll end up asking you to be my boyfriend.”

“Can we do that bit first?” Courf asks, Grantaire visably swallows, finally seeming to pay attention to what Courf is saying.

“What?”

“Can you ask me to be your boyfriend first?”

Grantaire clears his throat looking unsure.

“Okay, um,” He pauses and clears his throat again “will you be my boyfriend?” He asks his voice going slightly higher at the end, showing how very unsure he is.

Courf takes a step forward and wraps his arms around Grantaires neck pulling him closer until their foreheads are touching. “Yes” he says, reveling in the feeling he gets when Grantaires face lights up, before kissing him soundly, softly, letting out every ounce of emotion he had been trying to hide for the past three months.

None of their friends were overly surprised when they came to the next meeting hand in hand. There were shouts of finally, pats on the back, congratulations, and smiles all round, though none as wide nor as bright as those of Grantaires and Courfeyracs.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If any one is interested the song I was thinking of for at The Wedding is Micheal Buble's version of 'Sway' which is perfect and I recommend listening.  
> No smut cause I can't write smut to save my life, so sorry if I disappointed anyone.  
> Also I would really appreciate any constructive criticism, but don't feel you have to.  
> Thank you for reading :)


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